


seven out of ten

by castironbaku



Series: Commissions! [2]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, hidekane, implicit furuhide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castironbaku/pseuds/castironbaku
Summary: Ken Kaneki faces Kichimura Washuu for what is hopefully the last time. They waste no time, mince no words, and get straight to the battle. But it seems a bit easy to unhinge Ken, especially when Hide is involved.-commissioned by sukerokucchi on tumblr!





	seven out of ten

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the talented shay, whose hidekane prompts and imagines as well as her love for hide, are unrivalled.

This was it.

Behind Kaneki, the sounds of war and death had faded behind him to dull white noise. He took a minute to catch his breath. He’d been running and fighting and killing nonstop for hours and this infinitesimal moment in time was miraculously more than enough for him to recount every single second he’d spent forcing his way up here, a room spanning perhaps a hundred square meters, brightly lit by long white fluorescent bulbs lining the ceiling. It was a place devoid of structure and furnishing. Almost immediately, it was painfully clear what Furuta had meant it to be: it was an arena. Maybe a few years ago, this realization would’ve made Kaneki double back and reconsider his plan. But now he was different, and he knew it. There wasn’t any hesitation in his step, only the grim determination of a man sent here by his newfound resolve to bring everything to a head.

Furuta himself sat lounging on a plain black chair that looked completely at odds with the spartan emptiness of the place. It had likely been dragged up here for the sole purpose of making Furuta look as though he’d been waiting far too long for this final confrontation. Or maybe he really _had_ been waiting that long.

“Thrilling display downstairs, you know.” Furuta’s voice was just as breathily amused and somehow singsong as Kaneki remembered. “I would’ve gone down myself to watch, but I figured you’d want to keep things… private.” His smile made Kaneki’s stomach turn.

“You’re going to die,” Kaneki said. He didn’t feel the need to decorate his words. Truth was enough.

“Seven out of ten,” Furuta crowed from his makeshift throne. “Come on, kid, I thought we raised you better than that.”

There was no other preamble. They had engaged and the bloodlust that laced the air was enough to make anyone choke. Kaneki liked to think that he was the better, more seasoned fighter, but he knew that was a lie. He was at an obvious disadvantage, and he had no idea what else was hiding behind the walls or beneath the floor that would kill him at the slightest misstep. At some point between the parrying and breathless exchange of brutal blows, Furuta pushed him off, jumping back and creating distance. Both of them nursed minor cuts.

“I admire your pragmatism,” said Furuta, a trickle of blood sliding from his cheekbone to the corner of his lips. His tongue snaked out to swipe at it. “Always _such_ a delight at parties.”

“I learn from the best.”

They engaged again, kagune against kagune, blood and rippling flesh, the sensation of murderous contempt making Kaneki’s pulse quicken.

“How rude,” Furuta said. “I’m not a _delight_ at parties. I _am_ the party.”

There was no lull in the fighting, no warning to the sudden barrage of attacks that Kaneki sent flying at Furuta, who, even with the tactical advantage, finally gave a foot of ground. 

“A man of few words now are you,” Furuta flashed him a smile. “Let’s see just how many you choke out when you see my lovely surprise.”

Kaneki was the one who jumped back this time, wary of whatever Furuta had planned. But one, two, three seconds passed and nothing came flying from the walls. Nothing happened. Furuta was just standing there, favoring his left leg slightly.

“He used to talk my men’s ears off after he woke up from your love bites,” Furuta said. “Sad, really. I wonder how you were able to stand listening to him for as long as you did.”

Kaneki’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing. Furuta had to be lying. This was his ploy, his favorite tactic. 

“I thought maybe there was something about him, maybe his taste, that you enjoyed. I have to tell ya,” Furuta’s lips quivered as he tried to swallow laughter, “his tongue tasted like shit. Though his screams were _delicious_.”

“ _I’ll kill you_ ,” Kaneki snarled as he felt his blood catch fire in his veins, his heart pounding a rhythm of despair and fury in his chest. No, no, no. It was a lie. It had to be, because the way Furuta’s eyes were gleaming with triumph, were telling him that he was being stupid, and rushing headlong into death.

“Now that’s more like it,” was the last thing Furuta said before they both began the fight of a lifetime.


End file.
